


Assorted Memories

by TheCreatorCrew



Series: Gods Should Be Worshipped [3]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Because it's what he deserves, Dream harem, Dream has a harem, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Immortal dream, Kinda, M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, References to Drugs, Suggestive Themes, Tags Are Hard, dream is a massive tease, god dream, i'm a professional guys, schlatt simps hard, there's more i swear
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-18 10:40:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28865673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCreatorCrew/pseuds/TheCreatorCrew
Summary: A collection of loosely canon one-shot ficlet type things for me to write when I get writer's block from the main storyline :) It'll also help flesh out worldbuilding and character stuff.You don't have to read the main book to get this one, but some references may be confusing to those who haven't.{oblitory persona disclaimer here, I'm tired}(You can comment concepts for me to skim over, but there's no guarantee I'll do it as this is NOT a request book :D If you do want something specific, adding in a timeframe and POV for me helps out a ton lol)
Relationships: Clay | Dream/Floris | Fundy, Clay | Dream/Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: Gods Should Be Worshipped [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2038252
Comments: 5
Kudos: 132





	1. Stars in the Sky

**Author's Note:**

> In which Fundy muses over life (kinda).
> 
> “How long were you alone for?” Fundy asked, completely out of the blue. Dream chuckled lightly, tracing shapes in the grass.
> 
> “Longer than the number of stars in the sky?” He asked innocently. Dream barked out a bitter chuckle. “Or can you not count them all?”
> 
> “There are not enough stars to count them all.”

Fundy never noticed before how Dream never changed with the people and world around them, standing tall as a steady constant in an ever-changing rush of events. To be honest, it was probably because he wasn’t bothered at all or had anything to really check it against.

It was only after Dream teasingly pointed out that his stubble was growing back after Fundy went on a rant about the razors he was forced to use in Manberg since Schlatt took all of them one night that he _really_ took notice.

“Your chin is all scratchy when you give me kissies,” Dream pouted, leaning against the shorter man. Fundy rolled his eyes, pressing a chaste one against the mask. “You need to shave, dumbass.”

“Acting like you’re much better,” He grumbled, scrunching up his nose at the former.

Dream’s breathy wheeze was contagious, and he had to suppress his own chuckles to stay ‘mad’ at the man. “Enlighten me, how am I?” He grinned cheekily, flicking his lover. “What’s my stubble?”

“Oh, shut up.”

But it made him think- What _was_ Dream’s stubble, figuratively speaking of course. Dream didn’t have stubble.

He asked about that at some point, his fiancé just shrugging in response. _I just never grow it, I guess,_ he had said. 

Fundy’s hair became more streaked with white over the years, Dream comparing it to leaves slowly becoming covered in snow. It always made him blush whenever he got compliments, so used to the ‘old man’ comments. 

It only made him fall further in love.

Dream’s hair didn’t change besides the length, and occasionally the colour with the seasons and sun. It became paler during the winter, almost a white if he strayed in the cold too long. In contrast, it changed to a vibrant gold colour in the spring and summer, like honey. Fundy swore it sparkled if he was in the sun, but Dream never believed him.

Being a fox-hybrid, he aged more rapidly until maturity. After adulthood, it sort of levelled off, but he still got aches in his bones that his grandfather complained of in letters. 

Age took root in all of those that he knew- His father’s face slowly gaining more and more permanent wrinkles with the added stress, Tommy and Tubbo’s soft features gaining a sharpness that came with maturity, even just the simple act of gentle hands turning more calloused and rough as the years past.

Yet Dream seemed immune to age. Perhaps a perk of being a god, seeing as Techno displayed similar traits. 

The god was simply as he always was, with broad shoulders that never grew weary with age and a laugh that rang as true as the first time he heard it. 

It was glaringly obvious now that he thought about it, but Fundy didn’t _want_ to see it before.

No, it wasn’t that he was jealous or even concerned about it. He didn’t mind at all, most physical attributes he gained were minor and it had only been a couple of years, all things considered.

It was the simple reminder that Dream would outlive him. Outlive them all, in fact.

And maybe it was the realisation that the subtle weariness in his legs whenever the two raced would only grow as he got older, yet his lover would remain unaffected by time hurt him slightly.

Dream would always remain young, immortal and immune to most types of damage because of his healing factor.   
  


One day, Fundy would grow too old to stay up all night, watching the stars. 

One day, he wouldn’t be able to accompany the chaos duo and their tired caretakers for that day to the meadow they always went to and pick flowers to weave into crowns.

One day, he would die and leave all his friends behind.

One day, he would have to abandon Dream.

And one day, their generation of settlers would all be six feet under, with only ruins and scraps of books to tell their story. Just like all the others

Dream would be alone once more, for another thousand years.

(It was actually much, _much_ longer than that. Dream didn’t like delving into his past aside from a few sarcastic quips that made the others worry for his sanity, and Fundy was good at respecting that. But a long night of stargazing a few drinks loosened his tongue just enough to blurt out a couple of questions, which Dream humoured enough to answer partially.

_“How long were you alone for?” Fundy asked, completely out of the blue. Dream chuckled lightly, tracing shapes in the grass._

_“My dearest Fundy,” he drawled, dropping his voice to a low rumble. Dream leaned his head back to lazily grin at the flustered fox hybrid, “why are you asking?”_

_Fundy shook his head, feeling the blush on his cheeks grow. “No real reason. Curious.”_

_He heard a hum, watching as the masked man propped himself higher up on his elbows. “Count the stars in the sky. Right now.” Fundy blinked in surprise, to which he received a grimace. “Exactly.”_

_“Longer than the number of stars in the sky?” He asked innocently. Dream barked out a bitter chuckle. “Or can you not count them all?”_

_Dream sighed. “The latter was what I was getting at, but…” he mused under his breath. “For the former?”_

_“There are not enough stars to count them all.”_

But for now, he would lace his fingers with Dream’s, the impossibly soft and gentle weight of his hand grounding him to the world around him.

Yes, Dream was a god and would never change physically. 

But he changed emotionally- He opened up more now, spilling his heart out to Fundy on cold and rainy nights when it seemed like the sun would never rise again. The wheeze of his laughter was a frequent sound and the tender touches he gave Fundy made his heart flutter.

For now, it didn’t matter if he would eventually leave Dream behind. All that mattered was the here and now, and he was happy to spend it with him.


	2. Temptress.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Schlatt was what most would consider brash, always speaking exactly what was on his mind. He was not afraid to ask for what he wanted, whether it be money, drugs, sex, you name it. 
> 
> All his wants and desires were temporary, briefly craving a drink or the feel of skin against skin before disappearing again.
> 
> But Dream was a first for him. For once, he desired something more than a night of high passions and bad decisions, something lasting longer than a summer fling. Dare he say, something permanent."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Dream is just a massive fucking tease-
> 
> Warning here for suggestive content and drug mention. But it's Schlatt, so. You know.
> 
> forgive me lord-i-dont-believe-in, for i have s i n n e d

The sky was crying gently, caressing the nature god with sprinkles of water which were greedily sucked up by forest dryads and faeries. What it wept for, he knew not.

Schlatt leaned against the banister of the white house’s balcony, grinning lazily at the walls that surrounded Manberg.

Today was a good day, for a multitude of reasons.

They had just completed a large project, courtesy of their resident builder, Karl Jacobs. The man’s chest puffed up with pride at his amazement of the building, a large vault meant to sequester important items- and people- away from the rest of the SMP.

Coincidentally, they had also gotten word that their targets were letting down their guard. They would easy enough to capture.

He hummed quietly, swirling around the liquid courage in his glass. A small celebratory drink, since Dream limited the amount he could drink.

Speaking of whom. 

Dream slid the door open, standing beside him silently. His mask slightly askew, propped up on the side of his face. Schlatt could see a glimpse of pale cheeks dotted with freckles, long lashes brushing against them.

He rested an elbow on the railing, a cigar delicately balanced between slender fingers. 

Picture perfect. 

“You look lovely,” Schlatt remarked, “Good enough to eat.”

Dream chuckled, and he caught the subtle flash of green eyes flickering over to face him. He raised the cigar to his lips, lazily drawing from it with a grin. “Why don’t you?”

And  _ gods _ was he tempted to. He was clad in only a tank top and small shorts that hugged his waist, also wearing one of Schlatt’s coats, sliding off his shoulder in a  _ very  _ suggestive manner.  _ Was he trying to tempt the beast? _

The lingering smell of smoke and alcohol hung in the air as the two stood, an impromptu contest to see who broke the silence first.

_ Fuck _ . 

Schlatt was what most would consider brash, always speaking exactly what was on his mind. He was not afraid to ask for what he wanted, whether it be money, drugs, sex, you name it. 

All his wants and desires were temporary, briefly craving a drink or the feel of skin against skin before disappearing again.

But Dream was a first for him. For once, he desired something  _ more  _ than a night of high passions and bad decisions, something lasting longer than a summer fling. Dare he say, something  _ permanent _ . 

He wouldn’t mind waking up next to the man, holding him ever closer in his arms. And that scared him.

Never had he felt like this. Where he hailed from, coincidentally the same area where the first settlers came from, the idea of true love was heavily embraced, pushed on everyone from a young age. Perhaps that was why he was so noncommittal, although it didn’t matter much now. 

He could see the effects on the others, George often talked about in a very swoony manner whenever the topic of love was brought up. Sapnap just rolled his eyes in response, siding with Schlatt on the fact that true love was a fucking sham. Ponk never took a side, firmly believing in a “what if” mindset.

Fool.

Yet now, he wasn’t so sure. Maybe it did exist, although Dream would be the only proof. Dream was made to be loved.

The blonde beside him flashed another smile, cracking his neck. “You haven’t answered my question, lover boy.”

He inhaled sharply. Dream smelled of sin and desire, of purity and love, of a  _ craving he needed to itch. _

“Would you want me to?” It came out as more of a growl, surprise evident on the god’s face. “Pushing me isn’t the best idea.”

Dream hummed, only tugging on Schlatt’s tie to lean into his ear. He was practically  _ purring _ , the vibrations shooting down his spine. “It’s fun.”

He growled again, purely on instinct, hands finding their way to Dream’s waist and pulling him flush against himself. Dream  _ giggled _ , idly undoing the tie and a few buttons. 

Schlatt buried his face in the blonde’s neck, emotions running wild. It didn’t even help, his mind wandering to the fact that the normally hidden skin was completely untouched, devoid of any marks. It was  _ maddening  _ how easy it would be to mark up.

Dream held the carefully balanced cigar to Schlatt’s lips, offering it. It felt like something bigger than it was, an offer of something he couldn’t yet comprehend. He took it, maintaining eye contact as he exhaled the smoke, burning his lungs. 

Another smile quirked across red lips, gently tapping him on the nose. “My question.”

“If I did, I’m sure the demands for my head would skyrocket,” he said with a grimace, Dream’s twinkling laughter contributing to the blush rapidly spreading on his face. “They would just  _ know. _ ”

He mumbled something else, low enough so that the other man didn’t hear as he threw Dream’s arms over his shoulders, swaying them.

The rain picked up, showering them in fresh tears. He wasn’t sure when the coat slid off, but the worry crossed his mind of Dream catching a cold. “We should go inside,” he ghosted his teeth along the bare shoulder, eliciting a shiver from the blonde. “It’s cold.”

Dream pouted, being dragged into the comforting warmth of Schlatt’s quarters. “Lame.”

He huffed, pushing Dream into the bed with a surprised yelp. “Say that again, I dare you,” Schlatt’s smile danced across his lips as he held his wrists in his hands. “Test me.”

“... lame.”

  
“Oh, you’re  _ on. _ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nkjdnojauwdouawd i never said these would be good-
> 
> my deepest apologies, but also sike you're getting major angst next :)
> 
> i am proof validation is a drug.


End file.
